fate or coincidence

SUCH A CHAOS

My life began with a lie, a whispered secret that blossomed into regret, then hardened into resentment.

Acceptance finally came, a bitter balm for the wounds. But then he arrived—a flicker of light in the suffocating darkness.

I followed him, blind and hopeful, mistaking his warmth for the sun. He became my joy, my reason to breathe.

But certainty came, as sure as the sunrise, and the pattern repeated, leaving me hollowed out and aching.

___________________________________________

I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to live my life in a lie. I want to run back, again and again, down the path that will lead me to him. I want to call him mine.

Shhhhhhh…

"Why are you being so loud?" Pran whispers, nudging me.

She’s—

"Wait, what happened?" I blink, shaking off the haze of memories.

"Do you need something?" I ask, forcing my voice to sound normal.

Pran sighs. "You woke up."

"I wasn’t asleep," I mumble, rubbing my temples. "Just tired. Committee work."

"So, what I was saying—" Pran grins, leaning in. "They’re planning to go out."

"I’m busy."

Pran groans dramatically. "Come on, we’ve been planning this for months! You have to come."

"Sorry, I have to feed my dog."

"You don’t have one."

"Buying one today."

Pran gapes at me. "You serious?"

"This isn’t gonna help, you know that."

I don’t answer. Of course, I know that. Nothing helps. Not running, not pretending, not drowning myself in assignments.

Pran studies me for a second, then softens. "Let’s just have fun for once, okay?"

I hesitate. The past is a heavy chain, dragging me back every time I try to move forward. But maybe—just maybe—one night of distraction won’t hurt.

"I’ll think about it."

Pran’s eyes light up, sensing victory. "You’re coming, then!" he shouts excitedly before I can protest.

The room buzzes with energy as the others react, making plans. I exhale, feeling something I haven’t in a long time—something dangerously close to relief.

But deep down, I know. No matter how much I try to move on, the past still lingers, whispering his name.

Lawrine.

___________________________________________

Narrator’s POV

"It’s such a chaos. Just wanna run back home," someone sighed.

None other than Lily.

She stood there, arms crossed, expression screaming irritation. Her ocarina-colored shirt was neatly tucked under a brown leather jacket, a simple yet unique silver chain resting against her collarbone.

To anyone else, she was effortlessly beautiful, but to the group, she was just a cranky soul, endlessly complaining about the plan.

"Who even decided on this place?" Lily groaned, stepping over a suspicious-looking puddle.

"Uh, you approved it in the group chat" Pran shot back, barely dodging a flying plastic bag that the wind had aggressively launched at him.

"I did?" she frowned.

"Yeah, in between your 'seen' messages. Now stop whining and live a little."

Lily rolled her eyes, regretting every decision that led her here. The market was alive with neon lights, street vendors yelling over each other, and a symphony of car honks, distant music, and people talking way too loud for no reason. It smelled like fried food, cheap perfume, and impending bad decisions.

And the group? Absolute chaos.

One friend was arguing with a vendor over the price of a bracelet, another was dramatically claiming they were dying of hunger (despite just eating fries), and someone—she didn’t even know who—was already causing a scene over accidentally knocking over a stall of sunglasses.

"YOU BREAK, YOU PAY!" the vendor shouted.

"IT WASN’T ME!" the accused yelled back, looking betrayed.

Pran was busy trying to settle things, but the more he talked, the worse it got. Lily could feel the headache forming.

"I hate it here," she muttered, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets.

And that’s when it happened.

A feeling.

Like a shift in the air.

She turned her head—just a little. Barely noticeable. But enough.

And in the midst of the chaos, standing at the far end of the street, hidden between moving figures and neon lights, was a familiar silhouette.

Lawrine’s POV

He hadn’t expected to be here tonight. Just another restless evening, another place to kill time, lost in the noise of the city.

But then—her.

Lily.

His breath hitched.

Six years.

She looked different. Sharper. Older. But still her. The way she frowned at the world, the way she exhaled like everything around her was a personal inconvenience—it was the same.

She hadn’t seen him. Not yet.

And for the first time in a long time, he wondered—would she want to?